


pining on top of the pyramid

by danvernite



Series: 14 Days of Quaranklaine [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Cheerios!Klaine, M/M, Santana being Santana, Sue being Sue, angsty and kind of triggering, explicit language hence the rating, homophobia and domestic violence mention, kurt is a huge asshole in this, kurt wants nothing to do with blaine, or does he?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danvernite/pseuds/danvernite
Summary: "It's not my fault he has a perfect ass." Written for Day 2 of Quaranklaine, with the prompt "Cheerios!Klaine". Kurt hates Blaine, but Blaine doesn't even know.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Series: 14 Days of Quaranklaine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682620
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	pining on top of the pyramid

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my submission for Day 2 of the 14 Days of Quaranklaine series. I am slightly behind a day, so I apologise. I just want to say that I am not an expert in cheerleading OR how to handle domestic violence. I just hope that it resonates and is enjoyed by people. I hope that if you are in a situation where you need help, you know that there is help available and lots of resources out there. There are people who love you and you deserve every happiness, even in these hard times right now. Again, if you are triggered by discussions of domestic violence, child abuse and household homophobia and alcoholism, please EXERCISE caution in reading this fic.
> 
> Thanks and ily all!
> 
> XO Ally

“You’re staring at his ass again.”

“I am  _ not _ .”

“Oh come on, it’s totally obvious.” If he didn’t like Santana so much for her razor-sharp comebacks, he would have slapped that smug grin right off her face. He wanted it known that for the record, he was not staring at Blaine Anderson’s perfect-top-of-the-pyramid ass. On the contrary, he detested it so much that he didn’t even know why he was looking at it. Santana seemed to know though, but then again she claimed to know everything.

“You’re totally hot for him.”

“Santana!”

“Just admit it, you want his dick. I won’t tell.”

“That’s - that’s not -”  _ Damn it, Kurt, keep it together. _ “It’s not my fault he has a perfect ass.”

“I get it, trust me. He’s gay and a cheerleader and you’re horny as fuck.” She winked and he groaned. She was not going to let this lie.

“I swear, Santana. If you say anything, I will rip that ponytail extension out and don’t try to play it cool because Britt already told me you got it during your Ariana Grande phase last year.” He glowered and she raised one perfectly shaped brow. “Jesus, Kurt, okay. And if you must know, I’m not like a groupie or whatever. Britt still thinks a hair extension is making extra room for your brain anyway.” She flipped said ponytail over her shoulder and grabbed her bag. “See you tomorrow, lover boy,” she cooed.

“Ugh. Great. Just great.” Kurt wanted a hole in the floor to appear and swallow him up. He had never felt so mortified. Of course, it wasn’t always this way. There was a time he hated Anderson, hated that smug handsome pretty boy face so much he would have done anything to destroy him.

He was Coach Sylvester’s prize cheerleader until Blaine transferred from Dalton Academy. Blaine, who was perfect at everything. The new lead in the glee club, who volunteered his spare time to tutor other students because he was a straight A student and now, he was at the top of the pyramid. And the real kicker? He actually was nicer to Kurt than Kurt thought he deserved. Whenever Kurt got yelled at by Coach Sue, which was often, Blaine would look at him with these sad, disgustingly adorable puppy eyes, as “Porcelain, the stench of your flabbiness is palpable from here! It makes me want to cry!” echoed around the gym.

But Sue  _ never  _ critiqued Blaine, because Blaine could do no wrong. Blaine always straightened out in the exact right posture, Blaine never faltered. It was as if he had this magic quality that rendered even Sue Sylvester incapable of screaming at him. He was like sunshine and a puppy had a baby, and it made Kurt sick. It was also unfortunate that Blaine happened to be the only other out gay kid at McKinley, because it meant he was always sending out invitations to attend and join Pride groups and festivals. It almost made Kurt angry, the way he never seemed to be bothered by the homophobes and future degenerates that stalked the halls. He just let everything roll off him like everything was  _ fine _ . Maybe it was, for him, but for Kurt it was an unending nightmare of being shoved against lockers, being tormented just for being himself. And, in some selfish way, he loathed Blaine for being everything he couldn’t be; being top of the pyramid while he pined underneath.

“Hey, Kurt, great job today.” Mr. Perfect himself walked past with Quinn Fabray and Brittany Pierce in tow. “You seem to be really good at leg strengthening and conditioning, I was wondering if I could maybe ask you for some tips?”

Blaine Anderson, asking for advice? This was new. Before he could stop himself, he found himself saying, “Yeah, sure, that’ll be fine.”

“Great! I’ll message you on Facebook later. Oh, and Kurt? Maybe you could teach me those high kicks for this week’s glee number? You’re just so… nimble.” Maybe it was his imagination, but he could’ve sworn he saw Blaine blush. Fuck, no. Santana was getting to him, that was all it was. Maybe Blaine clapping him on the shoulder was too, or the weird smirk on Quinn’s face.

For the rest of the week, he avoided Blaine’s messages like the plague. He knew it was cruel, but what else was he supposed to do? Blaine was his enemy, and everyone knew enemies didn’t fall in love. He didn’t want to talk about glee or cheerleading or being gay or what sweater and bowtie combination worked the best. He just wanted to be left alone.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be a word in Blaine’s vocabulary when near the end of the week, Kurt found him by his locker, looking somewhat deflated, not all peppy and bright like usual. He managed a small smile though. “Hey, Kurt, how’s it going?”

“Alright, I guess.” He didn’t have time for this today. It was his fault for even giving the boy a spot of hope that they were best buds. Pushing past him, he opened his locker to retrieve his books, but surprise, the other boy was still there. “Is everything okay?”

Oh, he looked too pretty, with his concerned cute face and brows all scrunched. Kurt might have even gone so far as to say it was crush-worthy, but that was if he had a crush on Blaine, which he did  _ not _ . No, the racing in his chest was probably some cardiac problem and he should get it checked out. “I’m fine. Did you need something?”

“Um, well, actually, I was wondering if you got my messages? I didn’t want to be creepy or anything, and I  _ hope _ I’m not… but uh, did I do something to offend you?”

“What gave you that impression?” Kurt still didn’t dare look him in the face lest he be hit with the full force of a puke-inducing stare. 

“I dunno. Just… we never seem to hang out after practice, like everyone else. That’s all. We’ve known each other for months and I guess I just wish we knew each other better. So, if I did something to offend you in  _ any  _ way, I’d love to know.”

_ You offend me just by looking at me like that.  _ He couldn’t say that, though. So he found himself saying the next worst thing, looking him full in the face. “Your entire existence offends me, Blaine. Happy?”

He heard the other boy take a sharp intake of breath. _ Shit. You’ve really done it now, Hummel. _

“You know,” Blaine said, and he sounded as if he was trying not to cry. “I thought you were different, that you were above the whole mean cheerleader thing, but I was wrong. You’re just the same as everyone else.”

He could see the tears in those sweet warm hazel eyes and some pathetic part of him wanted nothing more than to brush them away. But it was too late for that now. He’d crossed a line there was no coming back from.

“Anyway,” Anderson sniffed. “I’d say goodbye, but I wouldn’t want to offend you. So I’ll just uh, go. See you at practice.”

“Sure,” Kurt muttered. “Looking forward to it.”

“Whatever, Kurt,” Blaine replied angrily, and pushed past him, disappearing into the throng of students while Kurt stood there, with an aching chest and a guilty conscience. 

The next day was Friday, and the last glee club meeting for the week. As Mr. Schuester enthused about mashing up yet another Journey song with Aerosmith, Kurt’s mind was far away as he fixated on Blaine’s usual seat, which was empty today.

“- and Blaine is sick today, which means Sam will take his spot with Tina,” Mr. Schue explained, as if reading his mind. Regionals were only a few weeks away, and Blaine wouldn’t miss this, Kurt knew. He just knew something was wrong.

That feeling followed him right through into cheerleading practice that evening, as there was still no Blaine. Coach Sue then, of course, put Quinn on top of the pyramid with Santana and Kurt below. She didn’t say much, but he thought that was because she was fuming over Blaine’s absence. But maybe in some fucked up way, she was worried too.

Ten minutes in however the door to the gym swung open, and Blaine entered. Kurt’s jaw dropped. His usually perfectly gelled hair was wild and untamed and curly, and the right side of his face was sporting a massive purple bruise. “Sorry I’m late, Coach. I was… sick, but I couldn’t miss this.”

Coach Sue turned to the rest of them triumphantly and barked, “See? That’s the sign of a true champion. Only losers don’t show up. Quinn, swap with Blaine, and perhaps he’ll make the top of the pyramid look less pathetic. And cover up that bruise. This is cheerleading, not ‘we’ll beat you up and take your money.’”

Soon, the mark was covered up with the brightest foundation possible and Blaine was back to smiling, or at least, Kurt hoped so from underneath him. Again, a feeling of dread was bubbling up in his stomach. It got more intense the more Blaine ignored him. He just wanted one of those stupid grins, the light in his eyes again, but there was nothing.

And then something unexpected happened. During the second half of training, Blaine trembled. He  _ never  _ trembled. That was Coach Sue’s biggest hatred. Quickly excusing himself, he went to the locker room and despite his better judgement, Kurt followed. He found Blaine curled up in a ball, sobbing. He didn’t do that, either.

“Blaine?” He approached cautiously. “Are you okay?”

The other boy lifted his head and Kurt winced as the bruise was once again visible, ever so slightly beginning to yellow. His eyes were red-rimmed and angry. “What do you care? You wish I didn’t exist anyway.”

“That’s not… I didn’t mean that, Blaine.” He knelt down in front of him. “I was tired. It always felt like you were perfect and I could never live up to that.”

Blaine laughed then, a laugh with no feeling, raw. “Me, perfect? What on Earth gave you that idea?”

Kurt shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seemed to come in and charm everyone. You never got bullied, or… or seemed to fight. You just got everything handed to you.”

“You really think that?” Blaine snorted and slowly rose to his feet, stepping closer and closer and emphasising every word that followed. “The only reason I don’t get bullied is because on day one I beat Karofsky’s ass and he and all his goons never touched me again, and I hoped if we got closer, I could teach you too.”

“All I ever wanted to do was be kind to you, Kurt,” he continued. “Not that you should owe me anything for that. But I thought you and I shared common ground. We both walk these halls, the only two out gay kids, and I thought that  _ counted  _ for something. When I joined cheerleading, Coach Sue felt sorry for me because of my pathetic situation, and decided to give me the Captain title, because she saw something in me, I guess… and I felt terrible about it for months.”

“Oh. I see.” He was slightly dumbfounded. Coach Sue having a heart? That was not something he’d ever expected to hear. “What about glee club?”

“Mr. Schue has somewhat of a charity case complex,” Blaine said.

“And what makes you a charity case, exactly? You don’t have to tell me, especially after… everything I said.” Kurt reached out to touch his hand, a bold gesture, but he wanted him to know he was listening now.

“No, it’s fine. Well, my family lost money and couldn’t pay for Dalton tuition, so public school was… the next best thing, I guess.” To his surprise, Blaine squeezed his hand back. “My dad… he drinks a lot and he beats Mom, and me since I came out.”

“Oh,  _ Blaine _ . Is that how -?” Kurt gestured to the bruise, and he nodded. “Yep. Something about not wanting a faggot for a son.”

“I am so sorry, Blaine, I swear, if I’d known.” Kurt could feel the lump in his throat, and the tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. It’s part of why I learned to fight. I just wasn’t quick enough last night.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” said Kurt fiercely. “Come stay with me, just for a while.”

“But my mom -”

“I’ll get the school to notify the police. It’ll be an anonymous tip, and we can talk to Miss Pillsbury about financial aid and housing. He won’t hurt either of you again. You don’t have to keep fighting.” 

He could practically see the sunlight coming back into Blaine’s eyes as he spoke, and it made his heart glow. The boy’s shoulders sagged as if a weight had fallen off, and if it was a different situation, Kurt would have kissed him. He deserved a kind, loving touch. But now wasn’t the time, at least for him. Which is why he was taken aback when Blaine drew him into one instead. “I’m sorry,” he said, quickly pulling away. “I should’ve asked if you were okay with… with this.”

“You know what, Blaine?” He smiled, and suddenly, everything made sense. “I wouldn’t be offended if you did it again.”

Eagerly, they rushed to kiss again, then Blaine winced. “Sorry, the uh…” He laughed softly, pointing to the bruise. “It uh, still hurts.”

“Ooh, yeah, should put ice on that,” Kurt whispered, just as Santana yelled from outside, “If you two are finished, we have practice to get back to!”

“Jesus, we should get out there before the whole school knows.” Kurt rolled his eyes, but Blaine interlocked their fingers together. “Maybe I want them to.”

Maybe he’d been wrong this whole time. Blaine’s kind of perfect was exactly what he needed, no matter the obstacles. “I really like you, Blaine,” he whispered.

“You aren’t half bad yourself, Kurt.”

Together now, as friends and something more, and for the first time, Kurt Hummel was content with having Blaine Anderson around.

  
  



End file.
